The Only Hope For Me Is You
by Dorplet
Summary: What if the two characters Clementine sees at the end turn out to be two people who've suffered just as much as her? Clementine x Ellie x Joel - no slash. Spoilers for both games inside. ON HIATUS.
1. Skylines and Turnstiles

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Last of Us or The Walking Dead, or any references to a band that may pop up here. Timelines are ignored for this story. Also ignoring plot of 400 Days and any possible TWD or TLoU sequels.**

**HUGE thanks to i refuse to prove that i exist for helping me find the awesome story image! (if you can't tell, it's Clementine and Ellie) Click on it to show the picture, apparently it just shows up as pixels at first.**

**If you like this story, feel free to check out my other The Walking Dead stories, Blink: The Last Shot and Through The Kaleidoscope.**

**Warning: Language may be inappropriate. **

* * *

_Remember me_

_Remember me_

_Remember me_

_Remember me_

* * *

It's autumn again.

The leaves have started to change their color and drop to the ground. _Crunch_. My foot snaps the leaves and twigs that litter the streets as we walk towards the town. Ahead of us, the path is bathed in the warm autumn sunshine that leaks through the cover of the trees. I stop for a while and just listen to the sounds of nature all around us. It might have been unsettling years ago, when this place was a city where cars whizzed on the streets and there wasn't a tree to be seen. Here, the only sounds are the twittering of birds and the scampering of wild animals. And the sound of my heart beating.

I reach behind my back to check my quiver and bow. In this quiet, any gunshot will draw all the infected within a ten-mile range. It doesn't seem like I have that much arrows left - only three. I'll have to scavenge around again or try to make some by myself. Joel said he'll learn how to make more arrows, but he never gets around to doing it. I know he prefers either using his knife or a gun. I don't like using my knife that much. Even touching it brings back bad memories.

We walk in companionable silence. A strong breeze has kicked up and it blows my ponytail into the air. I smell leaves and wood and something else. A fruity smell that I can't recognize. I glance at Joel, and see that he's smelt it too. He lifts his eyebrows. "Ellie, do you know what's that?"

I shake my head. "No, I don't. What is it?"

"It's apples," he says, and grins. He starts walking faster, his long legs breaking into a stride, and I have to hurry to catch up with him. The scent wafts past on the air and - what was it called again? - the smell of apples brings an image so vivid that I am drawn into it. Of a time when apples grew in a backyard and you could go out to pick them from your own apple tree, and bite into it with juice running down your chin. I hear high-pitched laughter and footsteps running. Not in fear. They were going home. I look ahead and for a moment I see a blond-haired girl walking alongside Joel, looking up at him with a smile as dazzling as the sun. I blink, and the vision is gone.

"Come on." Joel beckons impatiently, and I quicken my pace. He's standing at the foot of a tree laden down with fruits that I have only seen in books. A for Apple, B for Ball. I gaze up at the overhanging branch. In this small space, the smell is almost overpowering. Joel's already plucked off an apple and has bitten off a piece, leaving the imprint of his teeth along the apple. He sees me watching him and takes another apple for me. "Try it."

I cup my hands around the apple and stare at it, marveling at its shiny, red surface and smoothness. Hesitantly, I raise it up to my mouth and take a bite. It's sweet and tarty and I savour the taste of it in my mouth. More than anything, it tastes of autumn. An autumn in a world without sadness.

"You know, Sarah and I used to have an apple tree in our backyard," Joel tells me. He's gathering more apples into his backpack.

_I know_, I want to say. "Right." Now that I've finished my apple, I want to get out of this place. The sun overhead has gone down further, and the shadows are lengthening. I feel so exposed, out in the open with no cover around. "Joel, we need to get going."

Joel's expression doesn't change. His eyes get darker, though. "Let's go." He slings his well-worn backpack over his shoulders and walks on without a word. I follow him, trying not to stumble over any loose twigs and end up with mud on my face. We make our way over a hill and pause on the top, looking down at the crumbling field spread out in front of us, with the town just behind it.

Joel points at the town. "There's our target. Savannah."

A flash of white catches my attention, and I instantly nock an arrow and draw my bow. "There's something there," I say, determined to shoot it before it causes any trouble. The white thing is moving about and I curse, trying to keep my arrow locked on it. "It's probably a runner."

"Cover me," Joel says, dropping to the ground and moving forward. "I'll flank it and stab it." He starts moving to the left, using the trees as cover as he sneaks up on the thing - whatever it is. I walk forward slowly and squint at it, before gasping and running through the grass, heedless of the noise I'm making. "Joel! Stop! Stop!"

Alarmed by my cries, Joel abandons his cover and makes his way towards me. "Ellie," he pants, reaching my side. "Ellie, are you all right?"

I'm standing in front of it. No, not it. _Her_. A little girl with her black hair tied up in bunches and a baseball cap on her head. She also happens to be holding a gun aimed dead center at my chest, and although her grip is shaky, I have no doubt that she'll shoot if she needs to. At this range, she can't miss. "I can shoot you." Her voice comes out in a nervous squeak, betraying her nerves. "I've-I've done it before." Her finger rests on the trigger.

It's strange how strongly she reminds me of _me_ a year ago, all alone and against the world by myself. I drop to my knees and gently push the gun away. "Don't worry," I say, taking her hands in mine and staring right into her large amber eyes. "We're friends. We won't hurt you." Her lip starts to tremble and she lets the gun fall to the floor. "I'm... I..." she stutters, before burying her head in my shoulder and grasping me tightly. I fold my arms around her and hug her to me. I don't feel like ever letting go.

"Who is she?" Joel asks, crouching down beside us.

I straighten up with the girl clinging to me like I am the only thing in life that's securing her to this world. "Doesn't matter. We've got her."


	2. I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

_When, where will you stand_

_When all the lights go out across these city streets_

* * *

"Ellie," I say, crossing my arms over my chest and frowning. "Ellie - listen to me! We _need _to talk about this." I wave my hand in front of her face, but Ellie doesn't seem to notice me. Her attention is fixated on the black-haired girl we just met, and she's completely ignoring me. Ellie grunts slightly as she adjusts her grip on the girl to hold her more securely.

"Ellie," I repeat, getting more irritated. "Can you listen to me?" Call me paranoid, but I have seen a lot of shit in this post-apocalypse world, and met some truly fucked up people. There was no telling if even this seemingly innocent-looking girl, that just happened to be here with a _gun,_ could turn out to be part of another group. Once our guard was down, they would probably kill us and loot our corpses. Like the bandits in one of the many towns we had crossed, where they killed 'tourists' by pretending to be injured. No way was I going to let that happen. Ellie and I had gone through so much and I wasn't going to let that go for a little girl. Not after what had happened to Tommy.

I feel my heart clench as my thoughts wander to Tommy. I push it away, though. I'm not ready to deal with that... yet. Neither was Ellie. I had only come to accept Sarah's death after _twenty years_, for goodness sake. And that was only because of Ellie. She reminded me of Sarah ever since we first met - a Sarah that had lost her innocence. I tried to protect her the best that I could, and in the end, the decision that I made was one of the hardest. I would never give Ellie up. I admit, I am a selfish man, but if it was your own child, you would do _anything_ for her. You couldn't - _wouldn't _expect me to just sit there and let Ellie go to her death.

And I definitely wasn't going to ruin everything just for the sake of a little girl.

Ellie's still talking to the girl, who's starting to warm up to her. Quietly, I stand back and observe the girl. Her face is covered with dried blood and her clothes are similarly torn and tattered. She looks like she's been wandering for days without food or water. I'm still wary, though. "What's your name?" the girl's asking.

Brusquely, I take up a position alongside Ellie, resting my hand on my shotgun. "That's none of your business," I warn. If she turned out to be a spy for the Fireflies (or the remainder of them), they could very well be looking for us... and that would be disastrous. Ellie had no idea. "What's _your_ name?" I ask, staring down at her.

The girl shrinks away from my intimidating glare and runs to hide behind Ellie. Ellie shoots me a death glare, putting one arm around the girl. "What's _your_ problem?" she hisses. "You're being an ass, Joel." She turns to the girl. "My name's Ellie, and this is Joel."

"I'm Clementine," the girl says, trembling. She doesn't dare look up at me, and I suppose I must have scared her. I don't really care. It's not like I have much time or patience for little kids who couldn't take care of themselves.

"Ellie, I really need to talk to you about this," I growl, not taking my eyes off Clementine, or whatever she claimed her name was.

"We can talk_ right here_."

"Alone. Without her." I jerk my thumb at Clementine. Ellie's about to say something in return, but she notices my expression and controls herself. Instead she tells Clementine that she needs to go have a talk, but she'll come back very soon. It's both a reassurance and a threat. Clementine nods and watches me with wide eyes as I lead Ellie away.

Once I'm sure we are out of earshot, I face Ellie. "What the hell do you think you are doing?"

"Let me guess, taking care of an innocent girl in a world full of infected? How about saving her life?" Ellie rolls her eyes. "What's your fucking problem, Joel? She's just a kid!"

I refuse to back down. "She might be a spy. Don't you remember the bandits that tried to ambush us? She could be part of a plot too."

"Joel, have you considered the fact that she's a fucking kid who's alone and injured? Or that you may be just too suspicious? I don't know what's up with you, but this is the only person that we've met ever since we left... Tommy," Ellie trails off.

I am breathing hard, trying to stop the deluge of memories from overwhelming me. I told her not to bring up Tommy. Not until I was ready to think about what had happened to Tommy. "Stop right there."

Ellie bites her lip. "Geez, Joel, I'm sorry. I won't mention it again. But -" she continues, "you can trust Clementine, okay? She's nice and sweet and you're scaring her. I want her to come with us. I can't bear it if she goes out into this world - alone - and dies, Joel, I just can't. I need to protect her, even if it means risking our lives. Please. We need to take her with us." She hesitates, and then throws out her trump card. "You know Sarah wouldn't abandon her too."

She has hit me where it hurts the most. Of course, Sarah would never abandon anyone in need. All the things she has seen me do so far... I did it for survival, and I think she would understand that. But leaving a little girl on her own? Even Sarah would draw the line there. It reminds me of a quote, "_He who fights monsters should see to it that he himself does not become a_ _monster_."

I relent. "If anything happens to us, I'm holding you _personally_ responsible."

Ellie breaks into a smile. "You won't regret it, Joel."

* * *

"So where are we going?" Clementine asks, walking beside Ellie and holding her hand. She's taken to Ellie immediately, like a duck to the water, telling her all about her family and what has happened to her - I catch a few words, like "Duck" (does she have a fondness for that animal? It's mentioned quite a few times), "Lee" and "Ben", which I suppose were survivors of the group she belonged too. I rack my brains for anybody I know with those names, but nothing comes up.

We're en route to Savannah, our original target. It's almost night time, and we need to get under cover quickly. In Savannah, there should be at least a few unoccupied houses that we can take shelter in. When I don't respond to Clementine's question, Ellie replies, "We're going to Savannah, Clem."

"Sa- Savannah?" Clementine stops dead in the middle of the street, her eyes stretched wide in horror. "No! You can't! Don't go to Savannah!" Her face seems to be drained of colour.

"Why?" I say, not willing to put up with this kid's whining. If I said we were going to Savannah, we were bloody well going to Savannah.

"It's full of monsters!" Clementine bursts out. "The... the whole town is full of them. They are _everywhere_."

I shoot a 'do-you-think-we-can-trust-her' look at Ellie, but it's pointless. Ellie ignores me (again. That girl is going to be the death of me) and asks Clementine, "Is it very scary in there, Clem? It's not safe?"

Clementine shakes her head vehemently. "Even my par- my parents are there. Please don't go inside." Her parents, huh? Damn. If she was telling the truth, she had some pretty bad luck.

"Then let's stay in one of the houses here." Ellie spins around and starts making her way uphill towards the nearest house, and Clementine follows her eagerly. Who died and put a fucking teenager in charge? I catch up to them easily and use a shiv to open the door, crouching down in case of any infected. I throw a brick against the far wall and listen to the echoes it makes throughout the house, but nothing comes charging out at me. I wave them forward. "It's clear."

Ellie enters cautiously, sheltering Clementine with her own body. Seeing her like that, so careful and protective, reminds me of Tess and her a year ago. In the strangest way possible, our roles have been reversed.

After inspecting the house and stabbing an infected that was lingering in the bathroom , Ellie and Clementine have taken one of the bedrooms. Clementine doesn't appear to be leaving Ellie's side any time soon. She's always watching me; I feel irritated by her ever present gaze. I know I'm not acting very nicely towards her, but I still don't trust her. I check that the gun she dropped is still in my backpack. There's more to this girl then meets the eye.

Ellie's lent Clementine a few of her old clothes that she has outgrown, and they both head upstairs to sleep. I sit on the couch, keeping a wary lookout for any infected that may come stumbling through. I've blocked all the doors and windows with any heavy furniture I could find, but that doesn't provide us much protection. The only thing it does is give us a warning and enough time to run. Absent-mindedly I stroke the battered watch on my wrist. Its been broken who knows how many years before, but I don't keep it to tell the time. Besides the photograph, it's the only thing I have left of Sarah.

"Sarah," I murmur. "Baby girl, are you there?"

There's no reply except for the creaking of wood upstairs as either Ellie or Clementine settle down to sleep.

Memories before the world went to hell intrude: Lying on the couch watching Sunday football. That...greasy smell of a downtown hot dog. 4th of July, family barbeques. The sound of a plane flying overhead. I close my eyes and imagine her - her gray eyes, blond hair flying in the breeze as she raced to beat the opponent from getting the football. How she loved to pluck apples from the tiny apple tree that grew in our backyard. How she would never protest at the fact that money was never enough and she couldn't get all those new clothes like her friends.

How she died.

Just one peaceful night; a clean conscience - all gone...

It's up to me, now. I have so many black stains on my conscience that it's hard to tell if there's even one. I swallow hard as I think of the worst - Ellie finding out. If this girl - Clementine - knows all about Ellie and I, she would tell her. I wasn't going to let that happen. I would do anything to keep my secret safe.

_No matter what, you keep finding something to fight for._


	3. The Ghost of You

_Where were you when all of the embers fell_

_I still remember them_

* * *

I lie on my bed, trying to ignore the rats scuttling up and down the walls beside me. On my right, Ellie's asleep. She knocked out as soon as her head hit the pillow. I can't seem to sleep, though. My thoughts are scattered all about and I'm thinking of everyone that I knew. I repeat their names to me like a mantra, so that they don't get forgotten. _LeeDuckBenCarleyKennyOmidChrista..._ and so many, many more. Kenny's gone. Duck's gone. Ben's gone. Even... even _Lee _is gone. I look down at my hands and recall myself holding a gun up to Lee's head. Hearing Lee's final words. Shooting him. Taking the gun, tripping over the dead walker on the floor and unlocking the exit.

I ran through the horde of walkers in the streets, still too shocked to think about what had just happened. They didn't seem to notice me because of all the gore splattered on me, which was lucky, since I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. I remember crawling under a fence and getting my dress caught on the barbed wire accidentally. I found myself in a field which had turned golden yellow in the sunset. _How could the world still go on when everything else had gone to pieces?_ I stumbled through the grass and somehow ended up sitting on a log under a tree, cradling the gun in my lap, thinking of Lee's last words to me. "_Keep that hair short. Find Omid and Christa._"

"_I'll miss you_."

I heard a faint rustling in the bushes beside me, and for a moment, I caught a glimpse of white hair, but it was gone when I blinked. I peered around my surroundings, trying to identify what it was, but I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had surrounded me as soon as I saw that. It looked so _familiar_...

And then I saw two figures on a hill.

One was slightly taller than the other, and they were standing on top of the hill. _Was it Omid and Christa_? I strained my eyes for a closer look, but one of them pointed at Savannah, and they started to make their way down the hill. Towards me. I crouched down, trying to sneak away without being noticed, using the tall grass as cover.

I guess they must have noticed me, since I heard shouts and somebody running to come and get me. I raised my gun, determined not to go down without a fight. I still had a few bullets left - maybe I could escape. I wasn't going to let Lee sacrifice himself for nothing. I would follow his last instructions; to find Omid and Christa, and these people weren't Omid and Christa. Lee once told me that you couldn't trust anyone. Actually, he didn't really tell me that, but Duck and I had gone to eavesdrop on his room, where he was having one of those those late-night talks he always had with Carley. He had been talking to her about Danny and Andy, about how they had tried to kill us all. Carley had said something along the lines of "Lee, in this world I can't trust anyone. Even you." And Lee had said, "Good. You shouldn't."

Instead, a teenaged girl came bursting out at me.

* * *

I turn over and wriggle about on the bed, trying to get comfortable, but its no use. Lee's words replay over and over in my mind. I don't think I've cried since leaving Savannah. There's no time to cry when you're running from monsters. For the first time, it hits me that I'm truly, truly alone. Alone, with no one to care for me.

Well... except for Ellie.

I like her. She's like the big sister I never had. I always asked Mum and Dad for another sibling, or why did they only have me, but Mum would just smile and ruffle my hair. I miss Mum so much. I hope she and Dad and Lee and everyone else I know are up there in heaven, watching over me. Lee doesn't really believe in heaven, but I think he will be up there (_he has to be_), and I know that he's still looking out for me, even if he's not with me right now. Do you think Duck and Kenny and Katjaa will be up there too? Katjaa'll be watching over Duck as always, but Duck and I are always finding ways to escape from her careful eye. I wonder if Duck is still playing detective with Lee. Maybe he can travel the world - that's his dream, from heaven. After all, if you have wings, you can go anywhere you want. Or maybe he's a teenager, like we always wanted to be. I wanted to grow up so fast, but that wasn't exactly going to happen.

Wherever they are, I like to think of them as my guardian angels - all watching over me. And there's one with a smile on his face, calling me sweet pea. He 's waiting for me with his arms wide open.

I need to scream or cry or just say something because right now I'm holding myself together and trying not to think about what has happened to Lee. Quietly, I get up and ruffle through the drawers, searching for a piece of paper, a pen. Anything. I find an old diary or scrapbook that's plastered with stickers and photos of guys - eww. It does have empty pages, though, and I pull a piece of chalk? crayon? (I can't tell) from my pocket and start writing. The words start out slow, but soon they're running off the page until it covers the table with bright pink letters that stand out against the gloom. The margins are overspilled and some words are wet here and there, but that doesn't matter; it can still be read.

_Lee, if you're out there..._

_Can you hear me?_

_I miss you, Lee._

_These people... I trust Ellie, but I'm not too sure about Joel. It's as if he has this dark secret inside him that he doesn't want to tell anybody about. Not even Ellie. He seems really cautious around me, and I don't think he likes me that much. Ellie, on the other hand, looks out for me all the time. I tell her about Duck and everyone else and she laughed when I told her that I put a bug on Duck's pillow. I haven't told her about you yet, Lee. Saying that you're gone makes it so final. It's like writing THE END at the last page of a book, when in reality the story never stops. The characters go on living their lives. Life moves on. Still, I don't think I can bear to talk about you yet, Lee. I prefer to draw, not write. Words aren't meant for me and drawing expresses all I want to say. I would draw you a picture but I don't think any drawing of mine can let me remember you: the way you always let me go first. How you let Duck be your sidekick, even though I knew you thought he was annoying. How you fought through all the monsters to come and save me from the stranger. How you cut my hair and helped me to tie it up. _

_I'm scared that one day I'll wake up and forget the sound of your voice when you were happy or sad or angry. Or how even when you were bitten, you still came to save me and told me to shoot you. I find it strange, Lee, that one simple decision can change your whole life. If I didn't go with you, I don't think I could have ever met Duck and Carley and all those people. _

_Lee, there are so many things that I want to ask you and find out. How do you make a rainbow? If Santa Claus is real, why didn't he come and stop this from happening? Why do birds fly south in the winter? What's your favourite colour? Why aren't you here now? I miss roasted marshmallows, Lee. I miss playing hopscotch with my friends. I miss going to the park and sitting in tree houses. _

_I miss you._

I stare at the words that have managed to pour out of me, before raising my hand and wiping it all away, leaving a smudged pink table top. My hand has become pink too, and I wipe it on my dress, adding to the mix of _things_ on it that once belonged to someone else. It leaves a bright pink stain, but I'm not that worried.

After all, does it really matter?

* * *

"Morning, sleepyhead." Ellie pokes me through the covers, and I roll away from her, unwilling to get up. "Ungh," I grunt.

Ellie's up on her feet, and she heads out of the door, calling over her shoulder, "Breakfast!" My eyes fly open and I sit up so fast that it makes my head spin. Happily, I jump out and run down the stairs.

Ellie and Joel have already slung their backpacks onto their shoulders, and they both look ready to go. Joel's eyes flit around the whole house, checking for any sign of monsters. He never lets his guard down, does he? As soon as he sees me, his eyes narrow and he straightens up, patting the gun on his hip. I pause at the edge of the room, hurt. I don't understand him.

"Here." Ellie beckons me over. "We have apples." She holds out one for me.

"Apples," I say, smiling. "I _love_ apples." I cross the room and take the apple, keeping away from Joel the whole time. I don't feel that hungry, but food's hard to find in this world, so if you get some, you better eat it fast before its gone. Lee knew I loved apples, too. He used to try and find some for me, though there were never enough. Even though the group always fed Duck and me first, it still wasn't enough, and we often went to bed hungry. We even tried eating leaves (and bugs - that was Duck's idea. He took one bite and spat it out. Gross.), anything we could find. More often than not, it made us sick.

"So what's the plan for today?" I say, chomping down on my apple. I look at the window, and the white thing I saw earlier pops up again. The same sense of unease crawls over me - the hair looks way too familiar. It looks like - no. It couldn't be. He's dead.

"Well -" Ellie's cut off by Joel. "Ellie, I think you need to go and scavenge again. We're running out of shivs and bombs," he says.

Ellie folds her arms. "You're sending me alone?"

"You can handle yourself."

"Aaand if I happen to run into trouble?" Ellie drawls."If I need you there and you can't come in time to save me?"

"I'm not asking you to go far, I'm only asking you to go to the houses beside us." Joel's tone doesn't leave any room for argument. Ellie stares at him for a while, before quietly saying, "Okay." She pats my head. "I'll only be a short while, Clem."

I nod, still afraid of what Joel might do to me. I want to cry out _please don't go_, but I don't dare to. Instead, I watch as Ellie heads out of the room. Is she going to come back? I'm scared I'll be left alone (_again_) and this time there won't be anybody to look after me. I've seen so many people go away and make empty promises that they'll come back, but they didn't.

Sometimes the monsters aren't the ones who try to eat you.

Joel advances on me and I try to back away, but I only end up bumping against the wall. He's holding my gun, and it infuriates me. That gun was Lee's gift to me. It _belongs _to me. Joel shouldn't touch it.

"Cathy, or Celine, whatever your name was again, I need to ask you something," Joel orders.

"It's Clementine," I mutter.

Joel doesn't seem to notice what I've said. "Do you know anything about the Fireflies?" he asks softly.

_Fireflies_? Puzzled, I shake my head. "Never heard of them."

Joel crouches down until he's staring straight into my eyes. I square my shoulders and try to appear taller. I'm not going to back down. Determined, I raise my head up to hold his eyes for as long as I can. "Are you sure you don't know _anything_ about the Fireflies?"

"I told you, I have no idea who they are. Why do you want to know about them?"

Joel visibly relaxes, and he steps away from me. "Okay -" he gestures to himself," so you never knew about me or Ellie? You just happened to -" he puts quotation marks in the air, "- _stumble _upon us after losing your entire group, but somehow you alone survived? Was your group part of the Hunters, or anything? What exactly did you do?"

"Do you _think _I wanted to lose any of - any of them? Are you crazy?" I shout, feeling a lump in the back of my throat. It's not like me to lose my temper; I was always the one who would stand by the side and not dare to speak up. But I can't take this any longer. "Lee saved me and got turned into a monster, okay? Everyone else I knew _died_ trying to protect me. So stop asking me who the Fireflies are, because I don't know! You- you- I don't know anything about the Fireflies!"

"But don't you dare tell me that Lee and Duck and Ben were bad people, because they weren't. They saved my life." I gulp and through my blurred vision, I see a familiar figure standing at the doorway.

I gasp. "El-Ellie?"

"No, _no_!" Joel's face is filled with horror. "No... baby girl... it's not what you think. It's _not_." He places a hand on Ellie's shoulder. "Ellie. Ellie, I can explain. I can explain this."

Ellie pushes his hand away and shoves him roughly. "Save your words, Joel! I'm not your baby girl," she spits. "I'm not Sarah. I'm not your daughter and I will never be. You just think of me as a replacement for Sarah, don't you? You _lied _to me." She's quivering with anger. "You fucking scumbag! I knew I couldn't trust you. I thought something was up when they stormed Tommy's place and killed him and Maria, but you just told me it was the Hunters, not the Fireflies. You let your own brother die for me!"

Joel tries to speak, but nothing comes out of his mouth. "I'm not your baby girl, asshole. I'm not." Ellie gives me a look that says _I'm sorry_, and her eyes express all she wants to say. In some way, I understand - and I forgive her. "I'm leaving."

"You have to understand. I did this for you!" Joel cries out, clutching Ellie's arm. "Everything I did... I did it for you. I couldn't bear to lose you again. _Please._"

"You'd rather save a little girl than let the whole world die? Right. I _totally_ understand. Fuck off, Joel." Ellie gives him the middle finger, and I cringe. Ellie does use a lot of bad words. I think I've learnt more from her little rant than the whole time I was travelling with Lee. He always tried not to swear around me.

Ellie runs out of the house, and faintly I hear one last remark from her that seems to break Joel. "_I'll never forgive you._" And I watch Joel crumple to the floor, holding his head in his hands, muffled sobs coming as he holds himself together. It's strange to see such a big man crying, reduced to tears and regrets. I don't pretend to understand him, or whatever he and Ellie have gone through. Still, it makes me feel sad to see Joel crying over how Ellie's gone. I go to the door and watch her figure disappear into the distance, and I want to run after her, but I can't. Despite how Joel's been so mean to me, I can't leave him.

Which is why I am shocked when I see the white-haired figure has appeared, with three others behind him. I catch my breath. There's no mistaking him now.

It's Vernon.

And he's chasing Ellie.


	4. Disenchanted, Part One

_Covered in ash_

_Covered in glass_

* * *

I am running.

Away from Joel.

Away from Clem.

Away from whoever is chasing me.

Away from my life.

* * *

They aren't letting me go, are they? I stop for a moment and see my pursuers, some distance away and looking rather winded. It's good to see that I can still outrun them - after all the training we did back at Tommy's, it's paid off and I'm definitely faster. But I'm tired, though. It's not like I can run forever (unlike Joel, that guy seems to have unlimited stamina) and Joel would always tell me to jog at a steady pace and not use up all my energy-

_Stop_.

Don't go there, I tell myself. Don't you _dare_ think about Joel. Angrily, I brush those intrusive thoughts away and pick up my pace. The morning sun reflects off the harsh exterior of the silver-and-chrome railings that seemed to be the fashion back then. I'm in a rather narrow alley now, and I find myself squeezing between the walls and looking up at the skies above. Praying that nothing leaps down on me. I can hear their pants and wheezes as they struggle to find out where I have gone, and I smirk. They aren't going to get this little girl that easily.

It makes me wonder _where the fuck am_ _I, _because since taking off from the house, I've had people jumping out from behind buildings and bushes and god knows where else, and proceeding to chase me in what must be the longest chase of my life. That explains why I haven't had much idea where I was going. All I knew was that I was going away from wherever that... man was, and Clem. Oh, Clem. I wonder if she's okay, if she's safe, with Joel. Will he go so far as to use Clem to try and get me back? There's no telling what sort of twisted mind there is inside him. He... he actually... I wouldn't put it past him to come after me. But in some way, I know he wouldn't. He'd respect my choice - to leave me alone. Or, not so eloquently put, to fuck off.

The shouts have gotten closer, and alarmed, I hear a cry from one end of the alley. "I see her! She's over there!" Desperate, I wriggle out of my backpack, slinging my bow and arrows over my shoulder, holstering a few pistols, slipping a knife into my belt (only for last resorts), and finally, taking the shotgun in my hands. "Come at me motherfuckers," I breathe, but nearly trip over the backpack on the floor.

There goes my dramatic statement.

Freed from my load now, I move easily to the other end, and stand there for a moment, relishing in my triumph over these people. Hey, small victories like these aren't easily won, okay? Not like all those 'wins' people used to have when playing games on their computers, or whatever else they had back then. Before the world went to pieces.

"I've got you now," a voice whispers in my ear, and I feel the sharp pain of someone pushing a pressure point on my neck. _Oh fuckity fuck._ Darkness descends over me and as much as I struggle to keep my eyelids open, I feel myself collapsing to the floor.

* * *

_And I wake up in the middle of a field filled with daisies, staring up at a sky that's the purest shade of blue. There are some days where I look up and see the white clouds silhouetted against the sky. It's the kind of blue that hurts your eyes if you stare at it for too long, the kind of blue that takes your breath away. It's... I don't really know how to describe it. Have you ever had that kind of day where you know it's going to turn out perfect? Where everything's going to be alright? __The clouds hold places where it seems that I could run or climb or stand and wait to see what next was coming - until, perhaps, as it all melted, I could float away. _

_Maria's calling me, but I close my eyes and lean against my backpack, unwilling to abandon my spot. Summer's not going to last forever, and already Maria and Tommy are gearing up for the fall and winter. They like to make plans of_ if _and _how_ and _what should we do_, whereas for me... I just live in the moment. And this moment is pretty fucking awesome._

"Ellie_," Maria's standing over me with her hands on her hips. "You promised that you'd go and read to the younger kids." She frowns at me, evidently displeased._

_"I didn't exactly say yes, did I? You asked me when I just woke up, and I didn't even hear the question," I point out._

_"You said 'Uh.' "_

_"That's not the same as agreeing."_

_"No, it wasn't a short 'Uh', it was a 'Uhhhh', as in 'Okay, I've heard that and I'll do it.' ."_

_I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "Uh."_

_Maria throws up her hands. "You're as bad as Joel. Or Tommy, for that matter._ Men_." I can't help it; I start laughing and sit up, brushing the grass off my shirt and jeans. I bet there are some weeds in my hair, but I can't be bothered to check. Maria offers me her hand and pulls me to my feet. For someone who's walking for two, she's surprisingly strong. _

_"Have you told Tommy yet?" I ask._

_It's rare to see Maria caught off guard. She stammers a bit and looks away, unwilling to state the obvious. Apart from the fact that nearly all the women in the place know, none of the men have a clue. In fact, I was one of the first to discover it. I was digging through the trash (don't look at me like that, I dropped a candy bar inside) and I found her test. I can't wait to see Joel's reaction when he finds out he's going to be an uncle._

_Maria brushes the question away and takes me inside - _

* * *

This is not a good time to be having such memories. In fact, there is never a good time to be having any of these memories. But I bet one of the worst possible timings is when you're being dragged by a white-haired psychopath and having a gun held to your temple while being led through a city full of infected. I bite my lip, trying not to give away how scared I am. I dealt with David, and practically all his bandits. I can deal with four nutters. I can deal with memories that should stay buried popping up at the most inconvenient timings.

I _should_ be more like Joel; _should_ be able to put deaths in a locked box in the corner of my mind; _should_ be able to kill anyone without giving a second thought that they are people with lives and hopes and dreams and futures. But I can't. I can't do it. I'm not a killer - I never was. I'm a fucking teenager. Did they really care about problems like who liked who and what clothes I should wear last time? They had no idea how lucky they were. They worried about things like tests and exams and whether the boy liked them. Me, I worry about surviving until tomorrow.

There's a nagging thought at the back of my mind - being like Joel is a double-edged sword. He let the whole world die because of me. This is worse, way worse, than what I had thought, that we were never able to find a cure. _I'm the only person who can save the world_. How could anybody be so selfish and sacrifice everyone for me? I have the cure - no, I _am_ the cure. Better to die and be known as a hero afterwards, the one who saved them all. I never wanted to be like this, to cause everyone around me to die. _You are going to die because of me_. I think of all the others still alive in this world: families, colonies, babies being born. Life goes on. Joel should know that.

But if it was me - if Joel was the one on the operating table - what would I do? I never get to answer the question, as whoever is carrying me suddenly drops me to the ground, and I land on my hip. "Oww," I groan, rubbing my sore bone. I blink a few times, trying to take in my surroundings. The world seems to have become an ocean of gray and dust. Vaguely I make out a few tall figures standing over me.

I squint at them. "Who are you, and what have you done with me? Where am I?"

"Savannah," a woman says. She seems like she's about to say more, but she's cut off by another, deeper voice. "Don't tell her anymore," he growls. The guy steps closer to me and I can see his white hair. A flash of white-hot anger burns through me. He's the one that kidnapped me.

Kidnapped? Can I actually call this a kidnap? It's more of a ran-away-because-of-personal-problems-and-bumped-i nto-weirdos thing. I guess you could call it an opportunistic capture.

I feel rope wound tightly around my hands, cutting into my flesh and I struggle, not wanting to make it so easy for them to immobilize me. The white-haired guy crouches down beside me and breathes in my ear, "If you do that again I'll tell Clive to pull out a fingernail." He sounds like he means it, and my heart beats wildly in response. Are these people like David? David acted so nice, and then he tried to eat me. Who knows what they would do to me? My mind races wildly with possibilities - and they aren't appealing. _I am so fucked_.

"Alright. She's secure, Vernon," the person behind me - Clive, I suppose - says.

They all stand back and stare at with an intensity that frightens me. Their eyes are cold and hard. Their faces are lined with dirt and caked with dust. One of them is rubbing the blade of his long knife. They remind me of sharks circling their helpless prey, waiting for the chance to strike. Shivers run up and down my spine. They are the hunters and I am the hunted. They are the killers and I am the victim. They are the predators and I am their prey. There is a barbaric glint in their eyes and I stare back, unable to do anything else. It looks like they have some kind of animal savagery just below the masks of their faces.

The woman barks at the white-haired man. "What are you waiting for, Vernon? An engraved invitation?" Her voice is low and husky.

Vernon scowls at her. "Shut up, Joyce. We're doing this _my _way." He turns to me. "I didn't catch your name."

"I'm Ellie," I say loudly, trying to sound more confident than I really am. I am not scared. I am _not_.

"Well, Ellie, we've got a couple of questions for you. You are going to answer all of them. _Truthfully._" Vernon pats the barrel of his gun.

"And if I don't?" I ask.

Vernon shrugs. "We'll just have to shoot you. Or torture you till you die. Whichever comes first. And if you try to run -" I gulp. "It's a race between who gets you first, walkers or us. Or we could shoot you, and toss you into the streets. You get me?"

"Yes _sir_." I nod my head seriously.

Vernon holds up a faded photograph. "Do you know this girl?" I feel a jolt of recognition. It's Clementine in that photo. Admittedly, a cleaner and more cheerful-looking Clementine, but it's her all the same. She's smiling widely, trapped beneath the sheet of plastic. Still, I shake my head. Maybe if I pretend not to know her, they'll let me go.

I doubt that, though.

Vernon furrows his eyebrows. "You little bitch!" he shouts, slapping me. "I saw her with you. Don't you dare lie to me." He grabs my hair and pulls out a whole bunch, leaving my scalp bleeding. I cry out as the pain rushes through me and the blood trickles down my face. The side where I am slapped feels like it is on fire. I can feel the imprints of his fingers on my cheek.

"Whatever," I spit. "You're going to pay for this."

Vernon's chest heaves up and down in deep, incensed breaths. "Tell me. Is she with you and the other guy? Yes or no."

Ideally, I would lie and wait for Joel to rescue me. But in this case... I can't. I have no back up plan. I'm alone and I ran away and I told Joel to fuck off. Nobody's going to be looking for me. I'm going to die here, alone. With four killers.

That thought makes me smile. If I'm going to die, I'm going to bloody well make sure that Vernon and the others die too. I'll make them _suffer_. I'll bring the world crashing down on us - all of us.

"I don't really think you want to touch me," I smirk. "I'm bitten."

* * *

Instantly, the other three back into the far corner of the room, identical expressions of horror on their faces. "Vernon - get away from her!" Clive gasps. "She's bitten! She's infected!"

Vernon turns on him and every word of his is laced with venom. "Are you seriously going to believe her? Prove it, sweetheart."

"If you pull back my sleeve you'll see it," I assure him. Vernon hesitates, then jerks his thumb at the last guy. "Boyd. Go." Boyd takes a shaky step forward, trembling in fear. Vernon actually _bares his teeth _at him (and again I am reminded of animals waiting to be unleashed) and Boyd crosses the room swiftly and yanks back my sleeve. There's a sharp intake of breath around the room as they all stare at the bite, which still hasn't healed, even after more than a year. I hear mutters of "That's impossible" and "Everyone turns within a few days".

I press forward. "So you might want to keep your hands off me. Just in case it spreads to _you_."

Joyce clutches Vernon's arm tightly. Even from this distance, I can see her nails digging into him, leaving fresh scratches. "Vernon. It's not worth it." Clive and Boyd nod eagerly in agreement.

Vernon doesn't seem to have heard her - he pulls out his gun and aims it directly at my leg. "I'm not going to touch you, but I sure as hell can hurt you," he tells me. "I'll only say this once. Is Clementine -" _he knows her name? _"-with you now?"

"Yes."

"Was she alone when you found her?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure she wasn't with anybody else?"

"Yes."

"Did she mention anyone named Kenny?"

"Yes. She said he died."

"Here's the thing." Vernon gives a hoarse laugh. "He didn't."


End file.
